


Chasing El Corazón

by Dancing_Adrift



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Case Fic, Community: spn_cinema, First Time Wincest, Frottage, Kissing, M/M, Marijuana, Mutual Pining, Recreational Drug Use, Romancing The Stone, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-30
Updated: 2018-11-30
Packaged: 2019-08-25 15:09:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16663141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dancing_Adrift/pseuds/Dancing_Adrift
Summary: Sam and Dean are headed to South America to help a laid-up hunter rescue his missing daughter. But as they fumble through the Colombian rainforest, they find far more than they'd ever thought to even look for.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [SPN_Cinema](https://spn-cinema.livejournal.com/) inspired by the movie Romancing the Stone. I imagined this taking place sometime in S2. Hope you enjoy! ^_^

"Remind me again why we couldn't have just _flown_ to Colombia?" Sam asked from the passenger seat of the clunky old Ford Fiesta they'd hijacked somewhere around Mexico City.

"Oh, that's right," he continued before Dean could give his own excuses, "you're too scared to fly."

Dean scowled out the windshield as he sped past a classic International truck, bed piled high with cages full of chickens.

"At least my fear is something _logical_ ," he argued. "I mean, really, clowns, Sammy? What's the statistic on _clown_ deaths per year, huh?"

"Just because it's unlikely that I'll be killed by a clown doesn't make them any less terrifying," Sam mumbled. "But that's beside the point. Seriously, Dean. _Driving_? To _South America_? Darren said Haley's already been missing for two days, and the longer it takes us to find her, the less the chances are that we'll find her alive."

"This chick - she's a hunter, right?"

Sam grunted in affirmation.

"And Darren thinks this Pada-whatever - "

" _La Patasola_ ," Sam supplied.

" - the monster that broke his leg, he thinks that's what's got her?"

"Yeah. It's what they were hunting and what's been causing all the disappearances in their area."

"Well then, if she's not dead already, she can probably hold her own for the few extra hours it takes us to get there. It's not like she's really got much of a choice anyway, from the sound of it. Her dad knew what he was getting when he asked Bobby for our help."

"A _few_ extra hours, Dean?"

"Don't get pedantic, bitch. What difference a half day or so is going to make when we'd have even less control over the schedules of God knows how many airlines and flight transfers… It's not a great choice regardless, but I'm going to choose the travel plan that puts more control directly in our hands, okay?"

"Fine," Sam agreed, still sulking in his seat. "Jerk."

"'sides," Dean carried on, "it's easier to avoid the authorities this way."

"Yeah, sure," Sam chuckled dryly. "Until we have to get back _into_ the States."

It’s true that they had made it across the southern border relatively easily, their federal badges and Dean's charm all it took to convince the patrol officers to let through Agents Jack Colton and John Wilder and the nondescript sedan they'd been driving at the time. Sam seriously doubted they'd have the same luck upon their return.

"Well, that'd likely be an issue either way."

Sam glared at Dean again and his brother raised his hands from the wheel, defensive and placating all at once.

"But Bobby's taking care of it! I'm sure we'll be fine."

Sam let out another long sigh and turned to gaze out the window. "Yeah. I sure hope so."

"Don't worry, little brother." Dean reached over to pat Sam's thigh. " We'll rescue Haley, gank this weird-ass monster that's been disappearing people, and be back in the good ol' U.S. of A. before you know it, okay?"

Sam glanced down to where his brother's hand rested, slightly surprised by the lingering touch. Dean cleared his throat when he pulled back after a moment and Sam ducked his head to hide his heated face.

"Whatever you say, D." He rubbed his palms over his thighs and shot his brother a look from behind his bangs.

Dean smirked, his eyes back on the road. "Damn straight."

Sam rolled his eyes. He threw his hand in a playful slap against the side of Dean's leg and let it fall to the seat between them. "Yeah, okay, Dean."

They were silent for a long while after that, Sam's fingers brushing against Dean's jeans with every bump in the road.

***

Sam brought his laptop into the tiny taqueria where they stopped for lunch. The portable wi-fi device he'd purchased just for this trip had him connected to the internet in no time. He grunted his thanks when Dean set a plate with two burritos at his elbow then sat in the booth across from him, immediately digging into his own meal.

Sam watched him eat for moment, amused at his brother's evergreen enthusiasm for food, then shook his head and took a bite of his first burrito. He couldn't stop the moan that escaped.

"Oh my god."

"I know, right?" Dean grinned, salsa verde dripping out of his tortilla and down his wrist.

"This is fucking fantastic." Sam took another bite and closed his eyes in ecstasy, savoring every amazing flavor.

"TexMex ain't got nothin' on the real deal," Dean agreed as he polished off his first burrito and started on his second.

"Mmhm." For the next few moments, they did nothing but eat their respective meals in near-orgasmic silence, the food was _that_ good.

Sam licked some stray sauce off his fingers and wiped his hand on his jeans. When he looked up, Dean was staring at him, a sort of strangled look on his face.

"What?" Sam asked. "Did I miss something?" He swiped his palm over his mouth but it came away clean.

"Nah, you're fine," Dean said, then seemed to shake out of whatever thoughts he'd been lost in. "You got any news from Bobby?"

Sam refocused on his computer. "Hadn't quite gotten that far yet. Got distracted."

Dean chuckled while Sam pulled open his gmail.

"Yeah, looks like we've got something." Sam quickly scanned Bobby's brief note then let out a whistle.

"What is it?" Dean asked.

Sam read,

_"Hope you boys are making good time. Heard from Darren around 08:00 CST. Sounds like it's not La Patasola after all. Darren got a ransom note demanding some sort of treasure map in exchange for Haley's freedom. Will keep you updated._  
_Travel safe._  
_\- Bobby"_

"Wait, so, not a monster?" Sam felt about as bewildered as Dean sounded.

"Least not of the supernatural variety," Sam agreed.

"So, what? Treasure hunters? Since when do treasure hunters stoop to kidnapping and ransom?"

"People do some pretty crazy shit for money, Dean."

Dean scoffed but didn't argue the point. "Must be _some_ treasure then."

"Yeah." Sam frowned. "Though, even if this monster doesn't seem to be responsible for Haley's disappearance, it's still out there."

"Unless Bobby tells us otherwise, I'd think so," Dean said. "That's the main reason we even got called in on this job, right? Darren got his leg all fucked up on their last attempt to kill it, and now he's laid up and can't even go out to search for his own daughter, let alone some man-eater."

"Guess that means we've got twice as much to take care of when we get there then."

"Sounds like. Tell me more about this ' _La Patasola_ '," Dean said, digging into the rice and beans remaining on his plate.

Sam clicked over to the incredibly convenient Wikipedia article. God, he loved the internet.

_"La Patasola or "one foot" is one of many myths in South American folklore about female monsters from the jungle, appearing to male hunters or loggers in the middle of the wilderness when they think about women. La Patasola appears in the form of a beautiful and seductive woman, often in the likeness of a loved one, who lures a man away from his companions deep into the jungle. There, the Patasola reveals her true, hideous appearance as a one-legged creature with ferocious vampire-like lust for human flesh and blood, attacking and devouring the flesh or sucking the blood of her victims."_

"It's got a couple different names in the Colombian lore especially," he continued. " _La Tunda_ \- more common in the Pacific region - and _Marimonda_ , and there are connections to _La Llorona_ or 'The Weeping Woman', too."

"You mean like that ghost we ganked right after I dragged you away from Stanford?" Dean asked.

Sam scanned the information a little more closely. "Well, the relation seems to be a bit of a stretch, but the lore is still mentioned. From what Darren and Bobby have said though, I think we're dealing more with a combination of shifter and vampire that usually presents as a woman."

"So best bet… off with her head?"

Sam laughed. "Yeah, machetes should probably do the trick. Darren didn't mention anything special, though I think Bobby said something about it being susceptible to silver."

"Eh. You know me - I like to keep it simple." Dean swiped the last of the salsa off his plate with his index finger and sucked the digit into his mouth. Sam got a little mesmerized by the sight. When Dean opened his eyes and caught him staring, Sam coughed and reached for his glass of water.

Dean pushed himself up and collected their empty plates. "I'm gonna ask about getting another batch for the road. You in?"

"Yeah, I'll pack up here and meet you in the car."

***

Sam folded himself into the front seat of the Fiesta and opened the computer in his lap.

"You gonna get internet on the road?" Dean asked, incredulous.

"No, but just before we left I got another email from Bobby. I didn't get a chance to read it, but it had an attachment I was able to download that I want to look at."

"Well?" Dean asked. "What is it?"

Sam's jaw dropped as he quickly read the email he'd left open and then clicked on the attached file. His gasp drew Dean's eyes away from the road.

"I'll be damned," Dean said. "Is that a fucking treasure map?"

Sam gave a wry grin and laughed. "Yeah, that's exactly what this is. Bobby just found it in his junk mail and forwarded it to us. Said Haley emailed it to him the day she disappeared."

"Damn," Dean swore again. "So… What are we gonna do about it? I mean, this is exactly what Haley's kidnappers want, right?"

"Yeah," Sam agreed, "but I think it's pretty obvious she doesn't want this falling into their hands. Why else would she send it to someone an entire _continent_ away? Some old friend of her dad's that she's probably never even met?"

"Yeah, I guess." Dean mulled things over for a few moments. "Maybe she's hoping that someone can still find the treasure and keep it away from whoever these goons are."

"Would make for a much better bargaining chip than the map itself," Sam added.

"True, but if we find the treasure first, the goons won't know it, and we can get rich while they run around looking for something that's not there anymore."

Sam thought about that for several long minutes as he watched the ocean fly by them. They weren't far from Colombia now. So far their plan had just been to meet up with Darren as soon as possible and form a rescue mission from there. But now that they had the ability to find what Haley's kidnappers were truly after…

"This changes things," he said after some time spent in silence. "We need to find out what Darren's learned about the people holding Haley hostage and coordinate with him, whether that's just to rescue Haley as quickly and safely as possible, or to find this treasure and somehow use that to our advantage. But I can't make any real decisions with what we currently know."

"That's okay, Sammy," Dean said, bringing his hand over to clasp Sam's shoulder. "How about you just spend what we've got left of this drive making sure you know that map like the back of your hand and we'll figure out the bigger problems when we get to Darren's."

Sam looked at his brother and, though his eyes were focused on the road, there was a line of concentration between his brows that spoke of more than just concern for his driving. Sam nodded, determined to do just as Dean had suggested. While he studied the map, he knew Dean's mind would be working overtime to figure out logistics for any possible scenario, in want only of the remaining information Darren would have for them upon their arrival.

Rescue a wayward hunter, kill a monster, find some hidden treasure: just another day in the life of Sam and Dean Winchester.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Definition of _La Patasola_ is nearly straight from [the real Wikipedia article](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Patasola).)


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Much of this section is based almost entirely off the movie, so if it makes you go "huh? Sam and Dean wouldn't do that!" I beg of you - just go with it for the sake of artistic liberty. And/or blame the people who made the movie in the first place ;) Either way, I hope you enjoy!

La Patasola was dead, and Sam and Dean were lost.

They’d blazed their way through the jungle, following the barely-there path Darren had said would lead them directly to the kidnappers’ campsite. The trek should have only taken a few hours at most, allowing them to implement their covert rescue of Darren’s daughter, Haley, just as darkness fell.

La Patasola had had other plans.

While they hadn’t intended to seek out the vampire-like shifter until after Haley was safely returned home, it seemed the creature was just as willing to take a meal that walked directly into her lair as she was to take one she’d had to lure there. Of course, Sam and Dean immediately recognized her for the monster she was and as soon as they pulled out their weapons, she’d morphed back into her true, hideous form and took off running deep into the forest.

La Patasola was a fast mother, but Sam and Dean Winchester were faster. They chased her down and set themselves up so she ran right into Dean, and his machete into her neck. But by the time the blood was wiped away, the sun had started to set and they’d strayed too far from the path with no sense of the camp’s direction.

They turned their attentions to seeking shelter for the night and found it in a rather unusual place.

"Holy shit."

Sam turned towards Dean's startled voice, his machete at the ready, just in case.

"Dude, come here," Dean said. "Do you see this?"

Sam didn't see the plane until he was almost on top of it, stopping right at Dean's side.

"Holy shit," he said.

"Right?" Dean looked at him with a huge grin and a crazed light in his eyes. "What the fuck are the chances, huh?"

The small aircraft had obviously crash-landed some time ago. Most of its once sleek surface was covered in the growth of the forest, whether it was the battered trees it had landed in, or vines and other creeping plants that had spread over it since.

"Do you think it's safe?" Sam asked. It probably _would_ make decent shelter for the night, _if_ they could figure a way to get inside it. And, oh god…

"What if there are bodies in there, Dean?" Sam thought he might be sick.

"We'll just have to check it out, see what's what. It's not like we have a lot of other great options, Sammy."

"I mean, we've dealt with worse," Sam said. " _Situations_ ,” he clarified. “I don't want to deal with the stench of a rotting corpse if I don't have to, Dean."

"Yeah, yeah."

Sam followed his brother to the other side of the cockpit. The plane seemed remarkably intact for something that had fallen from the sky, and it looked like only a couple windows had maybe cracked or broken in the crash.

Dean had found the door and was studying it, obviously trying to figure out how to get inside when the entrance was a good ten feet in the air.

"With the way the branches are, we could probably climb up and in… Gimme a boost?"

Sam obligingly kneeled with one shin on the jungle floor and the other leg bent at a ninety-degree angle, foot flat on the ground. He made a small platform with his hands for Dean to stand on, then lifted onto both legs and heaved his brother towards one of the larger limbs of the tree the plane was wedged in. Dean swung up into the branches and carefully climbed until he was just outside the door.

"Careful, D. Just in case it's still pressurized."

Dean nodded and reached for the handle. Sam quickly moved out of the way.

The latch flipped up with a small click, then Dean heaved as hard as he could while keeping his body to the side of the door. It swung open a few inches then stopped; there was just enough space to see that the seal had been breached, but the years of disuse had made the hinges rusty and stiff.

"Alright, you got a light, Sammy? Come spot me while I check this out," Dean said, already tugging on the door again, a little more urgency in his voice as the sun slipped further under the horizon.

Sam stepped until he was almost directly underneath Dean, passing him a flashlight and keeping his hands raised as Dean climbed his way into the plane. Thankfully the cabin was wedged pretty solidly in the trees it had landed in; Dean's wriggling didn't cause it to move even an inch.

Finally Dean was all the way inside the aircraft and Sam watched the beam of his flashlight jump around the cabin for a moment before he heard him let out a low whistle.

"Oh, man. You gotta see this."

"Bodies?" Sam hollered back, jumping up to grab the lowest branches and pull himself up into the tree.

"Looks like just the one - pilot, waaaaay past the point of smelling. Your nose is safe, princess."

"Oh, shut up," Sam grunted as climbed his way up to the open door.

He hauled himself into the plane and straightened, taking a moment to pull their second flashlight from his backpack and flicking it on.

"Now what is it I'm supposed to see?"

Carefully avoiding going anywhere near the cockpit, Sam directed his light around the expanse of the small cabin. What he saw made his jaw drop.

"Is that… is that _pot_?"

Where once the passenger seats would have been there was now nothing but the hollowed out shell of the aircraft - and it was piled to the ceiling with bricks of marijuana.

"Yup," Dean answered. Sam didn't need proper lighting; he could _hear_ the smug grin on his brothers face.

"Ho-lee shit."

***

Sam had tried talking Dean out of this - _We’re in the middle of the freaking jungle; there’s plenty of wood around. We’re gonna stink so bad, Haley’s kidnappers will smell us coming from a mile away. Inside a plane, Dean? Really?_ \- but none of his arguments had been able to sway his brother.

To be fair, the plane was really good shelter - from the cool night and the soft rain that had started to fall shortly after they’d climbed inside - and the confined space made it easy to keep warm… but did they really have to make their campfire out of _pot_?

“Gotta use what we got on hand, Sammy,” Dean had said with an unapologetic grin.

“There’s an entire tree _right_ outside, Dean.”

“Yeah, but it’s dark now, and all of this neatly packaged fuel is already right here. Could hardly ask for a better setup, given the circumstances.”

Sam had gaped a little at that, torn between his reluctant agreement with ( _some_ of) his brother’s arguments and his disdain at using a potentially hallucinogenic drug as their source of light and heat.

Of course, _now_ he couldn’t really care less about it. Might be that he didn’t remember ever having a problem in the first place.

Sam was _high_ and he felt _good_.

"Fuck. How come... how come we' never done this before, D?" Sam's head lolled against the inner wall of the aircraft, rolling around until he was facing his brother. While Sam still felt like he was all limbs sprawling every which way, Dean looked like the lead star on a movie poster, his pose relaxed and confident, head leaned back and eyes closed, those damn girly lashes resting against his perfectly freckled cheeks. God, Sam loved Dean's freckles. He wanted to count them and then lick each and every one.

"Speak for yourself, little brother. No one else I know could've gone to _college_ in _California_ and not tried a little weed."

Sam tried to move himself closer to Dean but his octopus limbs were heavy as lead and he ended up just sort of dropping against Dean's side, arms limp and useless between them.

"I did to." Sam leaned into Dean's neck. It smelled really good there, fresh, not nearly as suffocating as the smoke-filled air of the cabin.

"Did to, what?" Dean asked, a slight smile in his voice.

"Try some." Sam darted out his tongue, licking along the shell of Dean's ear. "Mmm," he moaned, "Wanna try _you_."

Dean coughed into his hand and reached over to straighten Sam back up.

"Easy now. I'll believe if you say this isn't your first experience with pot, but you handle it just about as well as you do liquor." Dean's tone was fond and Sam smiled. He leaned back towards Dean, all the more determined to taste the affection in his brother's voice.

His face landed at the open collar of Dean's shirt. Sam happily licked a line along Dean's collarbone.

"Mmmm," he moaned. "Taste so good, D. Like, like fuckin' vanilla, and...strawberries. Summer and blue skies…" He breathed in deeper and bit at the juncture of Dean's neck and shoulder.

Dean yelped. "Yup, just like your liquor." He grabbed both of Sam's shoulders and lifted him away from his body, propping him up against the wall of the airplane again.

"Liquor. Lick. Wanna lick." Sam pouted. "Why won't you let me taste you, D?"

"Fuck, you're going to kill me, Sammy."

"Mm," Sam said, letting his eyes wander over his brother's gorgeous body. His eyes were dark and shiny, his cheeks flushed; his chest was noticeably heaving with every breath, and there was a suspicious-looking mound pressing against the zipper of his jeans.

"Only little deaths," he agreed. He moved his hand to Dean's thigh, suddenly feeling very coordinated compared to the few moments before, so long as he moved slowly enough, and angled his face closer to Dean's, intent on sampling Dean's lips next. His brother's eyes widened as Sam drew near but he did not back away. Sam was _this close_ to tasting heaven when he found himself falling forward into the empty space Dean created as he leapt away from the wall, his machete up and swinging.

Sam scrambled as soon as he caught sight of the massive blade, but Dean was already resheathing it in the holder at his hip.

"What the fuck was that, Dean?" Sam's strangled voice bounced off the confining walls of the cabin. Dean nodded at something behind Sam. Sam held himself still for a moment, trying to catch his breath in the smoky air, then slowly turned to look past his shoulder.

With a smirk, Dean started pulling the - now headless - body of a _giant_ snake over and across the piles of grass bricks behind them.

Sam passed out.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning (?) for sexual content under the influence of drugs with [non-verbal] consent by both parties.

When Sam woke back up, Dean was cradling him against his side and his head was nestled on Dean's shoulder. It was still night-time, the world beyond the plane's windows silent and dark, but the cabin was no longer filled with the glow of their pot-fire and the air felt a little easier to breathe. One of their flashlights was providing some light from where it was propped up between a few bricks and Dean had an emergency blanket covering them to keep warm.

"Think you were right about the fire being a bad idea, Sammy," he said.

"Mm?" Sam said, closing his eyes again and burrowing deeper into Dean's embrace.

"You doing okay there, buddy?" Amusement colored Dean's voice.

"Thirsty," Sam managed to answer around the cotton in his mouth.

"Right, of course." Dean shifted and grabbed a bottle from the pack set beside him. Sam grumbled at being dislodged but he sat up to take a few sips of the water then rubbed at his eyes.

"How long was I out?"

Dean pressed the button to light up the display on his watch. "About an hour or so."

"Wha' happened?"

"You passed out like a big ol' girl, that's what."

Sam jerked straight upright at the memory of the snake, his eyes frantically darting around the dimly lit space.

"Don't worry, it's safe." Dean reassured him. He brought his arm around Sam's shoulders again and pulled him close. "I dumped the body outside, let a little fresh air in. Figured it was the fire that attracted our friend in the first place, so I put it out. You'd probably had enough anyway."

"Mm," Sam hummed noncommittally, resting his head on Dean's chest.

"How're you feelin', Sammy?"

"Feel good, Dean." Sam rubbed his cheek over the soft fabric of Dean's t-shirt. His nose brushed Dean's nipple and Sam felt it harden as he repeated the motion.

"Okay, that's enough," Dean said, pushing Sam up and back towards his bicep.

"What's'a matter, D? Don't you wanna feel good too?"

"I feel plenty fine, thank you. Suppose I should just be thankful you don't get the munchies when you're high."

Sam bit Dean's shoulder. Gently.

Dean jumped anyway. "What the hell, Sam?"

"Still wanna taste you."

"You remember that, huh?"

Sam laid his head back on Dean's shoulder. "I'm high, not amnes- amnesiat -- I don't have amnesia, Dean."

"Well, good for you. You're still stoned as hell though."

"Still know things I want." Sam mumbled. "Nothin' ever changes it, though I wish it would, sometimes."

Sam couldn't see it, but he could feel Dean's raised eyebrow when he asked, "And what is it you want, huh Sammy?"

Sam brought a hand to the center of Dean's chest and pushed himself far enough away so he could see his brother's face. The light made his features so soft, so downright touchable, somehow so much more accessible… Something that had been out of reach for Sam's whole life was suddenly just… right there.

Sam lifted one finger to trace the plush line of Dean's mouth, to press against the pliant give of his lips. Dean's jaw dropped slightly and the tip of Sam's finger slipped inside warmth and wetness and Sam stared for several long moments before he remembered that he had to answer the question.

"I want… What do you _think_ , D?" Sam rose up to his knees and crawled on top of Dean, straddling his thighs. He brought his hands to the sides of Dean's neck, running them up and down from the flushed, smooth skin to the spiky short hairs at the base of his skull. Sam watched as Dean squeezed his eyes shut at the sensation, and he grinned as he felt Dean growing hard beneath him.

"Sammy, I can't… Fuck, you don't even know… Feel so good…"

"Can, Dean. _We_ can." Sam leaned in close, hovering over his brother's perfect mouth. "Always, Dean. _Always_."

Dean's hands gripped Sam's hips as Sam finally, _finally_ pressed his lips against his brother's. There were silent fireworks exploding in the back of his brain, colors and sparks trickling down his spine where Dean was stroking with one hand while he dug into his ass with the fingers of the other.

"Dean, Dean, Dean, Dean, Dean." His brother's name fell from his lips, a mantra of the only thing that mattered in Sam's entire universe. He rolled his hips, grinding their cocks together as he rocked back and forth in Dean's lap.

"Dammit, Sammy, fuck!" Dean leaned forward and bit and sucked and kissed at Sam's neck, and Sam just leaned back to give him better access and held on for the ride. He clung to Dean's shoulders, the flames inside of him stoking higher and higher until everything erupted and galaxies were born behind his eyes.

Sam slumped against his brother, Dean's breathing as ragged as his own. The awareness of a wetness in his pants had him squirming uncomfortably, but Dean held him still with a vice-like grip around his waist.

"Fuck, hold still, Sammy. Gonna chafe, all that wiggling."

"I didn't bring another pair of pants," Sam whined.

Dean snorted. " _That's_ your big concern right now?"

Sam tilted his face back and frowned at his brother.

“It’s uncomfortable,” he pouted. “It’s gonna dry, and then it’s gonna itch…”

“And making out with me… God, making me _come_ … I’m your _brother_ , Sam. That doesn’t bother you?”

Sam looked down at his wet crotch. “Pretty sure if it bothered me I wouldn’t be in this position right now.” Then what Dean was saying really hit him and he looked up with wide eyes, the tendrils of panic starting to wrap around his heart.

“Why, does it - did it, I mean, does it still - bother _you_?” he asked, voice quiet, his body going absolutely still, his efforts to keep from hyperventilating resulting in him just stopping breathing altogether.

Dean brought a hand up to rest on Sam’s chest and cupped his other around Sam’s face, thumb gently stroking at the corner of Sam’s mouth. “Whoa, easy there baby boy. Easy. Breathe, Sammy. It’s okay.”

Suddenly everything started working again. Sam’s heart thundered in his chest and his lungs tried taking in all the air at once in a loud, shuddering sob. Dean rubbed his hand over Sam’s chest in soothing circles, talking him through breathing in and out until Sam found a regular rhythm again.

Once Sam had calmed down, Dean moved his hand to Sam’s waist and guided him to him, placing an easy kiss to his lips. He just held them there, mouths - bodies, souls - pressed together. Sam felt himself go completely lax, melting into his brother’s arms and focusing on every vital point of contact.

It was several heartbeats before Dean pulled away, one hand cradling the back of Sam’s head to keep him close. Sam could feel how the air moved between them, still sharing breaths even when they were apart.

He opened his eyes and met Dean’s gaze. “Dean?”

“Yeah, Sammy.” Dean stroked his hand down Sam’s back again. Sam shuddered and leaned into the touch, pushing his face against Dean’s neck and cuddling into his embrace.

“So. Does this mean… you’re not bothered?”

Dean laughed. “Yeah, I guess so. Been wanting you more than I should for a long, long time. But being here, like this… Can’t see what I thought was so wrong about it anymore.”

“Good,” Sam replied, nuzzling closer. His eyelids felt so heavy, and the lassitude had returned to his limbs. Everything was relaxed and easy and good, and Dean was warm and solid against him. Sam settled in, feeling safe and happy and loved, and let darkness and dreams take him.

***

Morning broke as long beams of light cut through the lingering haze inside the plane. Sam woke gradually, first aware of the sounds of the jungle filtering in through the cracks in the windows, then the residual smell of weed smoke, and finally the cold, empty space at his side where Dean was supposed to be.

Sam sat up quickly, the thermal blanket pooling around his waist as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes and scanned the cabin. The only body he caught sight of was that of the decaying pilot; Sam spared a wry huff of amusement for the poor soul when he noticed the Grateful Dead jacket still wrapped around its sorry corpse.

There was no sign of Dean, though the lone flashlight and backpack at Sam’s side indicated that he hadn’t gone far. Sam winced as he stood, the dried come in his underwear just as unpleasant as stoned him had predicted it would be. God, he would kill for a shower… Resigned to living in discomfort until they'd finished their rescue, Sam set about gathered their things. With one final sweeping glance to make sure he hadn’t missed anything, he headed out to find Dean.

The door made a horrible noise and chunks of rust fell away when he pushed it open. A quick survey of the surrounding jungle still yielded no Dean, so Sam focused on figuring his way down the tree. The jump from the lowest branches to the ground was the worst part, rattling his knees and back in an unpleasant way, but it was no worse than how he felt after a violent salt n’ burn.

“Dean?” Sam called out, trying to keep his voice contained to only the immediate area, not knowing who or what might be nearby that they’d maybe missed the night before. Dean was probably pretty close anyway, just ducking off to take a piss or something.

It was only a dozen or so seconds later when Sam was proven right, Dean’s arrival heralded by the crunching of sticks and other vegetation covering the forest floor.

“Heya, Sammy,” Dean greeted him. His smile was wide, but there was an air of wariness about him as he halted at the edge of the clearing, a good ten feet from Sam, and stuffed his hands in his jeans pockets.

Sam tilted his head and gave a cautious smile back. Dean stayed rooted to the spot as Sam made his way towards him, stopping no more than a foot away.

"Hi," he said. He couldn't help the small, genuine smile as he spoke. Being this close to Dean sent a low thrum of anticipation vibrating through his body.

Dean had to tilt his head up to meet his eyes. "Hi."

Dean's gaze darted to a point below Sam's chin and his eyes widened, his face flushed. Curious, Sam brought a hand up to his neck but didn't feel anything there.

"What?" he asked.

If possible, Dean's face went even redder. "You uh, you've got… " He reached up with two fingers and pressed gently at a spot just to the side of Sam's Adam's apple.

Sam hissed in surprise at the unexpected twinge. "What… is that a hickey?" he asked, stunned.

Dean averted his eyes and shoved his hand back into his pocket.

"Dude, no. That's just… " Sam reached out to grab Dean by the biceps, giving him a light shake to get him to look at him again. "I've wanted this for too long to pretend it didn't happen."

Then he leaned down and kissed his brother, stone-cold sober and never more certain of anything he wanted in the world.

Dean's eyelids fluttered closed and he moaned into the kiss. Sam swiped at his lips with his tongue and Dean opened to him, pressing into the touch and sucking at his tongue and mouth with equal eagerness.

After a few moments Sam pulled away, resting his forehead against Dean's and working to catch his breath.

"This is a really bad time for this, huh," he said.

"Kinda, yeah." Dean sounded dazed. Then he was standing up and pushing Sam away with a squeeze to his arm. "Besides - you _reek_ , man."

"Ha! Speak for yourself," Sam said. "I wasn't gonna say anything, but… " He raised an eyebrow and gave Dean a look that was meant to be faux condescending but probably came across as more appraising instead. Even as filthy as he was - from the hunt, the smoke, the sex, the night spent out in the jungle - Dean still looked fucking gorgeous.

"On that note," Dean said, "I scouted the area while you were getting your beauty sleep."

"And?" Sam asked, elbowing Dean teasingly as he fell into step beside him, letting Dean lead the way through the jungle.

"There's a river a few paces this direction." He pointed ahead of them. "We can probably wash up a bit, try to orient ourselves, come up with a new plan for rescuing Haley."

"You know," Sam said, "there's a few rivers on that treasure map. Couple distinguishing landmarks. Darren thought it might've been an area just north of where the kidnappers are settled."

"Is that so?" Dean said, thoughtful. "I'm pretty sure we were headed north when we killed _La Patasola_. Maybe she led us right to the treasure."

"Maybe," Sam agreed. Then he reached down and grabbed Dean's hand, intertwining their fingers and squeezing gently. He glanced at Dean with a small smile before letting go. "She sure led us to something alright."

"Oh, so that's how it's gonna be now, huh?" Dean asked calmly enough, but there was a roughness to his voice that Sam was looking forward to exploring in the near future. After they rescued the girl, found the hidden treasure, and took a long, hot shower. Probably in that order. 

Sam smiled, wide and bright and happy. He'd already found everything he'd ever need.

"Yeah, that's how it's gonna be."

THE END.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am overwhelmingly blessed to be a part of such a supportive community of friends/fellow creators.  
> Thus follows a list of people I'd like to thank for helping me make it through the writing of this fic.
> 
> THANK YOU:  
> Sammie & Jen, the initial enthusiasts for every idea I have and my constant supporters.  
> Anna & Amb for reading the WIP and leaving such helpful feedback.  
> RiatheMai for the brainstorming and excitement connected to the actual movie.  
> Everyone who helped answer my many, many questions over on the Discord server (TFWBT, BlindSwanDive, JuliaSets, wetsammy… and so many others. Thank all of you, really).  
> Bells, for the love and coffee.  
> Amy, for the mod support and late night pep talk.  
> Cherie, for the solidarity and wise words.  
> Marcialena, Alyndra, Ash, and everyone else on twitter that I didn't already mention who sent encouraging words while I agonized over not finishing this by my assigned posting date.
> 
> They say it takes a village. Whoever they are, they are not wrong. If I didn't name you and I should have - _thank you_. And to everyone who reads this: I hope you enjoyed it. Despite all my hair-pulling, I enjoyed writing this for you. Comments and kudos are love and always appreciated! <3 <3 <3

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Kudos and comments are love ♥♥♥


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